


Young Wings

by nctatnightnight



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Stockings, Vaginal Sex, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nctatnightnight/pseuds/nctatnightnight
Summary: As the Reader wraps up their gig as a seasoned flight attendant, they cross paths with a new pilot on a winter red-eye.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	Young Wings

For all intents and purposes, you were having a pretty great morning, considering it was starting at 9:00 p.m. local time. Sea-Tac was a nice airport; not quite as nice as PDX with its straightforward layout and proximity to the city, but infinitely nicer than anything south of there on this coast. The new spinner luggage your parents had sent you for Christmas was still working like a dream, gliding over pavement and not getting stuck in escalator platforms. It also expanded, would come in handy on the off-chance you used a voucher to Miami and got to peruse the duty-free and discount shops not far from the airport (or from the beach.) You wouldn’t have many more mornings like this. This was your last month in the skies. Next month, you were starting a sparkling new desk job in administration. The idea sort of scared you, but the idea of leaving behind 9:00 p.m. mornings  _ did _ sound nice. Nevertheless, you couldn't shake this prematurely homesick feeling, that leaving the skies would weigh on you like you were literally grounded. 

You grabbed a latte in your reusable mug from the only business still open for the night near your gate, a lonely and frazzled barista smiling gratefully at your tip as she wished you a good flight. There was no reason to doubt her -- it  _ was _ going to be a good flight. You relished your opportunities to lead your cabin crew, especially on smaller flights where it was more like being with three friends for six hours. Even adding two more flight attendants made it feel more like being a club president, and always added an extra percentage of pressure. A nice, easy-going red-eye, a low pressure nonstop from Sea-Tac to Newark: a perfect start to your week. 

The gate was easy to spot, not only from having been through this airport multiple times, but from being the only gate overflowing with sleepy yuppies and bored college students. You held a quick huddle on the jet bridge, your small crew bright-eyed and as awake as they could manage. Veronica from San Francisco and Brian from Virginia had flown with you before, but Tia from D.C. was a new face and apparently only on her third month in the skies. You did a quick run-down of tasks before leaving Ronnie and Brian to make announcements and take tickets, before leading Tia down the jet bridge to help you set up before seating began. 

You wheeled your bags all the way back to the galley, stowing your luggage in the crew’s storage and getting a lay of the land on your way back up the aisle. Obviously, you'd been on plenty of airplanes, and an A320 was your bread and butter but, regardless, eyeing the bathrooms and emergency exits as your hands brushed the seat backs on your walk up the single aisle felt good. Plenty of people had their rituals, and yours just helped reinforce that even though this was work and work was hard, that people depended on you to do your job well. Really, the little ritual helped you love your job more with each flight. All in all, you would miss every part of it, the great with the awful. 

The intense musk of Aqua Velva hit the top of your sinuses like you inhaled water at the pool when you entered the cockpit, but it was the edge of menthol cigarettes that let you know who your pilot was before he even turned around. 

“Hey, Jay,” you greeted. 

“Hiya, kid,” he grinned back. 

Jay was nice, almost too nice for New Jersey, and you should've guessed he’d be here for a medium-haul back to Newark. The co-pilot, however, was new. Incredibly new. The young pilot slipped his cap off as he settled in and shrugged his jacket off, brushing his fingers back through soft waves of bleached blonde. His half-smile more resembled a smirk, with a small dimple in his cheek to boot. You knew the type. He probably started telling girls he was a pilot the moment he got out of high school. Probably bought all his flight time and didn’t have to waste time teaching to get more. 

“First Officer,” you nodded cordially, and he gave a friendly wave. That was a good sign. Some of these guys liked to imagine that they were a celebrity, even sitting on the right side. 

“Chan here is a baby,” Jay heartily laughed and slapped him on the back, “he might as well just got his hours in. Lucky this isn’t his first day.”

“Right?” Chan chuckled lightly. 

“No, I mean for us,” Jay erupted into laughter, his head leaned back as he slapped the poor guy on the back again, “Nah, kid, I'm just kidding. It’s gonna be a good flight.”

“You’re in really good hands,” you nodded reassuringly. It was true. Jay was from a dying breed, a veteran that got his wings flying in the Air Force -- only, when his breed was first introduced, they’d flown props in Germany, not jets in Vietnam like he did. Regardless of how you felt about his role in it, you had to admit it gave the older man some grit, and a cool head under pressure probably since he first started. 

“Let the kid greet the passengers with you,” Jay suggested, “we're looking at a fifteen minute delay while we finish de-icing, and we'll get the pre-flight done with plenty of time. I never get to greet passengers pre-flight. And can I please get a coffee before take-off? Last I tried getting it myself Ronnie damn near bit my head off. ”

You couldn't say no, right? Not without looking like an absolute jerk. Chan stood tall next to you, his cap back on because the couple of kids on the flight would love it. A few regulars greeted you by name, already half-asleep. More reasons to love red-eyes: almost the whole cabin is out cold, even more so in the winter, it seemed. Almost no one to demand colder soda with less ice or not-so-secretly pinch you as you passed by in the aisle. You looked back over at the First Officer. He really couldn't be much younger than you -- he could really even be older than you -- but Jay was right. He was a kid as far as career time went. 

Your crew was batty as you finished the safety spiel and joined them in the rear of the plane. 

“Who's the new guy?” Brian asked as he buckled himself into the jumpseat. 

“An actual fetus,” Ronnie rolled her eyes, “did he hit on you?”

“Is he nice?” Tia asked curiously. 

“First Officer Chan is nice,” you assured everyone, “and Jay is up there handling everything, anyhow.”

“The Captain called me Kid,” Tia raised an eyebrow as she quietly grabbed some snacks out of her bag. 

“He calls everyone Kid,” Ronnie waved her off, “he only stopped calling himself Papa Bear a couple years ago.”

“Weird call sign, right?” Brian asked as he carefully sipped from his coffee during taxi. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, “but I've heard worse. He swears he got the name after saving some kids.”

“Really?” Brian laughed, “he told me it was from keeping a grunt with a broken leg safe in the jungle for three days until help arrived.”

You all shared a hushed giggle fit during take-off. Once you hit altitude, you unbuckled, grabbing Tia and leading her with you to First Class to take drink orders while Ronnie and Brian handled Economy. You made a big show out of taking a vote on whether or not to turn the cabin lights off, and wished everyone a goodnight when a unanimous amount of hands shot up. You rounded up drink orders from the few passengers still awake and reconvened in the rear of the plane to grab everything. Drink service now, then snacks halfway through, then cleanup at the end. Tia was thankfully adept with the beverage cart, careful not to knock any ankles on her way up and down the aisle. Everything went by breezily, satisfying you to no end as you locked up the carts in the galley and buckled back in. Thankfully, you might even be able to catch a brief nap before snack service. You slipped off your low heels, stretching your toes as you closed your eyes and let the pitch and roll of the plane carry you to sleep. 

The sensation that awoke you was something you’d only been familiar with in bed -- the distinct feeling of surprising yourself awake. The plane was rumbling through some turbulence. You sighed as you checked your watch and nestled back into your seat, grumbling about being woken up as the plane rocked hard again. More grumbles sounded down the aisle as some other passengers were awakened. You quickly unbuckled, getting up to press the seatbelt sign and get a look around before you sat back down. The cabin jostled and shook, making it difficult to fall back asleep.  _ This _ would be hard to miss, you decided. The moment you were finally able to close your eyes, you were rudely awakened once again by another distinct sensation -- this time of falling in a dream, the sheer drop in your stomach feeling eerily familiar. Only problem was, you  _ were _ falling. 

You couldn’t be sure how exactly how long the plane dropped. It could've been three seconds, five seconds. It couldn’t have been ten seconds, but it still felt like an astonishing amount of time. _Clear air_ _turbulence_ , you’d heard in passing. Plenty of people told you that if you flew long enough, you’d get to experience it. Even Jay mentioned it to you once or twice, you were sure. Your ass thunked hard into the jumpseat, the skeleton of the plane groaning around you as it regained momentum. The moment had passed but was still incredibly present. Masks had dropped, overhead bins had popped open, luggage strewn all over passengers and the aisle. A few passengers who had slept through everything without buckling their lapbelts -- you could see one, halfway laying in the aisle and groggily cursing after having been bounced into the short ceiling. Of course this only happened a month before you were leaving. Thankfully, Jay seemed to have gotten the plane back on track, and you could focus on getting this sorted. 

_ Jay _ . 

You’d still gotten no word from the cockpit. The least Jay would’ve done by now is beep the telephone headset in the galley to ask if everyone was alright. He’d done it in lighter conditions. Now you carefully unbuckled, rallying your crew to get to work. Everyone followed you down the aisle, stopping to get the lights on and tend to passengers as you made your way into the cockpit. Thankfully the most damage for the moment appeared to be spilled coffee, but to your curiosity, balance still seemed off in the cabin. You pushed open the cockpit door and gasped, finding Jay slumped in his seat, a concerning drip of blood congealing under a deep bruise on his forehead. In the right-hand seat, First Officer Chan was attempting to hold it together. He shot you a concerned and crazed look. 

“What happened?!” You asked, suddenly distressed as you kicked the door closed behind you and tended to Jay. 

“Turbulence, then clear air turbulence, and the Captain cracked his head on the steering console. I’m thinking it was the air coming off the Rockies as we passed.”

“Are you alright?”

“Fine enough, despite how fubar this whole thing is. How is it out there?” He asked. 

“Fine enough,” you agreed, “what about the plane? We need to get Jay to a doctor and I promise he’s not the only one.”

“I agree. I’m just trying to figure this out. We can ask for a gate at Great Falls.”

“Awesome, let’s do that.”

“But my monitors are telling me a turbofan is beginning to fail from the fall.”

“What’s closer?”

“Helena, I think? I've heard of it but never flown into it.”

“It’s worth a try. Ask ATC for a gate and I'm sure they’ll get you in there.” You turned to leave, to scramble your team and get everyone prepared for landing before Chan desperately reached back and grabbed for you, only managing to get ahold of the hem of your skirt.

“Please don’t leave,” he sighed, “I’m a mess and landing still makes me anxious for some stupid reason.”

“Not stupid,” you reassured him with a hand on his shoulder, “that’s why you put in all this time as First Officer first before anyone expects you to.”

“Here,” he looked over his shoulder and handed you a headset and a flight manual, “can you page ATC for me while I do this? I'm on the brink of losing it if I'm being honest.”

“Of course.” You patted his shoulder again, now feeling bad for being so judgemental before. You didn't know this guy, and he was turning out to be perfectly capable and reasonable. The headset crackled to life, getting ATC and explaining your situation before asking for a gate at the smaller airport. Once you got clearance, you weren’t far off. You paged back to the rear of the plane, finally getting Ronnie to pick up and catching her up to speed. It was reassuring to hear her voice behind you out in the cabin, beginning to prep and organize everyone for landing. 

“I wasn't listening,” Chan sheepishly admitted, “how bad is it out there?”

“Of 198 souls on board, all are still alive,” you paused with a smile at the relieved sigh spilling out of Chan’s chest, “there’s three apparent injuries, a couple broken pairs of eyeglasses… And the Captain.”

Chan grit his teeth for a moment. “Fine,” he said, “If the Captain is the worst then that’s the best I could hope for right now.” 

You pulled down the jumpseat behind Chan and stayed during landing and taxi, keeping a soft but firm hand on his shoulder, but you couldn't help but wonder why: were you comforting him or yourself? Thankfully, your landing kept you from dwelling on it. Despite his trepidation, his landing was excellent. Outside, the blinking white and red lights of ambulances could be seen on the tarmac. Most of your regulars grumbled as they exited the plane, already hurrying to find new flights. You gave Chan one more comforting squeeze on the shoulder. 

“Good landing, First Officer,” you smiled. His returned smile was small as you opened the cockpit door and were instantly pulled into a hug by your crew. You all deplaned, luggage in hand and watching solemnly as Jay was carted off by EMT’s. An older man with a badge approached you. Thankfully, not NTSB. Just higher-ups from the airline. It wouldn’t be a huge deal, just a quick interview with each of you. You looked back to see Chan emerge from the cockpit, backpack slung over one shoulder and cap in his hands when he got intercepted by an investigator of his own. 

The interview was simple. You were sleeping, you woke up to turbulence, the plane fell, you went to check the cockpit and found the Captain out cold, you helped the First Officer decide on the smaller airport based on the factors at hand. Before too long you and your crew were all assembled at the front of the airport, huddled against the frigid winter air and climbing into your comped rental car to your comped motel. The city was still quiet, and none of you were ready to sleep. Thankfully, a small bar down the street from the motel was still open, its red sign a beacon in the still of the night. 

Ronnie carefully nudged Tia in your booth. “You alright?”

Tia nodded. “Sure. Just a little shaken up still. Dumb, right?”

“Not at all,” Brian shook his head as he sipped his beer, “that was fucking terrifying. Never dealt with that before.”

“Dealt with it once,” Ronnie shrugged, “hated it even more this time. You’re not being dumb.”

“How bad was it out there?” You asked. 

“The woman in 14 was having a fit,” Brian laughed, “She couldn’t understand, could  _ not _ comprehend why we had to divert, and the dude next to her is, like, unconscious. He’s literally just  _ out _ , he passed out from during the fall and she’s leaning over him and getting snippy with me.”

“Oh my god,” Tia laughed into her vodka cranberry, “what did you do?”

“What you always do,” Ronnie butted in, “Remember this sentence, Tia:  _ I’m sorry you feel that way; if you’d like you can explain your issue to the ticket agent once we land _ .”

“That works?”

“They either drop it by then or the ticket agent has no patience for it. Just get it out of the damn cabin, you know? We’re already in a tuna can, the least you can do is be civil.”

The night went on like this, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to drink. It didn’t feel like you had anything to celebrate, like you didn’t do anything to warrant a reward. 

“Anyone want to head back to the room?” Ronnie finally relented. 

“Me!” Tia piped up. “I’m bushed and I would love to lie down.”

“Alright, alright,” Ronnie smiled. 

You gathered up your bag to join when you spied someone at the bar. 

_ Chan. _

How long had he been there? He just sat on the barstool, pensively nursing a hardly-touched beer and staring at his cap on the bar top. You let out a heavy sigh. 

“You guys go ahead,” you offered, “I’ll catch up.”

Brian raised an eyebrow as he closed the tab, his eyes catching the reason for your delay. “Are you sure about that?” Nonetheless, the three burst into laughter and still left, bundled up in their coats against the harsh cold outside. 

You casually approached the bar, taking the seat that Chan’s backpack resided in. You gently picked up the bag, making sure he was seeing you out of the corner of his eye as you set it on the bar top to sit down. A bright red fabric tag caught your eye,  _ REMOVE BEFORE FLIGHT _ emblazoned across it in bright white with  _ CHAN _ embroidered on the end.  _ Cute _ . When you flipped the tag over, more casual script was stitched on the back.  _ Good on ya, Chri _ s. 

“Chris?” You asked out loud, audibly puzzled. 

“Yeah?” Chan finally turned to fully look at you. He raised an eyebrow at your confused face. 

“Wait,” you laughed, “what’s your name?”

“Oh my god,” he smirked, “you thought Chan’s my real name?”

“Of course I did!” You smiled and buried your embarrassed face in your hands, “Jay introduced you that way!”

“Jay was razzing me for the worst call sign on the planet when you came in.”

“It’s your call sign?!”  _ You idiot _ , you silently admonished. He didn’t buy his flight time. He traded service for half the hours. 

“Horrible, right?”

“I’ve heard worse,” you smiled gently. 

“You didn’t see my name on the itinerary?”

“It said FO C. Bang,” you shrugged helplessly. Chan -- or Chris, rather -- watched curiously as you pulled out your wallet and placed a bill on the bar. “You don’t need a beer,” you shook your head, “you need to talk. Did you get a room at the motel, too?”

Chris nodded, watching as you picked his cap up from the bar and taking it hostage as you turned to leave. He quickly grabbed his bag and followed you as you marched out the door and onto the sidewalk back to the motel. 

“So that explains your name, but I still don’t get the accent. Australia? How did that work with the military?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, almost impressed, “moved here when I was younger. Immigration wasn’t the worst thing in the world for me, but it took forever. Ever since I was a kid I wanted to fly planes, and I knew military service got you half your hours. Got out, went to school, and started teaching businessmen for their private licenses.”

“The real grind,” you smirked. 

“Yup. They always get these planes that look better than they fly.” He stopped you for a moment on the sidewalk, grabbing his cap from your hand and placing it on your head. He grinned with satisfaction, the little dimple it caused looking cuter than it did earlier. “What?” He asked. Your look must’ve given you away. 

“Nothing, I--” you floundered, “I feel bad. I had you pegged wrong. When I met you earlier I had you figured for a rich kid who bought his hours.”

“Oh yeah?” Chris laughed. “Can't say I would've passed an opportunity to. But is that what made you a little… Cold?”

“Yes,” you winced at your admission, “if anyone has ever tried to pinch my ass or pull on my pantyhose or grab my skirt, it's businessmen or young pilots who think they’re hot shit.”

“Your  _ pantyhose _ ?!” Chris stared, visibly disgusted for you when you nodded. “I get it,” he shrugged reassuringly, “better to keep your guard up. How long have you been flying? Any tips you can give me?”

“I’m done next month, to be honest. It’s only been a few years but I think I’m ready.”

“No! You’re kidding. You think we’ll fly together again?”

“Well,” you blushed, “where are you based?”

“New York. I was going to deadhead to LaGuardia after Newark.”

“Makes sense. I'm based out of Sea-Tac. That’s where I'm starting my new job.”

“No!” Chris exaggeratedly sighed, “I can't believe it. You’re not flying anymore?”

“Nope,” you smiled, “grounded as of next month.”

“Bummer,” he shook his head, “you’re a champ. By the way, were you just walking me back to my room?”

You were caught entirely off-guard as you noticed you had accompanied Chris right up to his door, just a few doors down from where you were staying with everyone else. “What? No. I wanted to talk. You looked so out of it back there.”

“Well, we can keep talking in here, then.” Chris smiled, digging his room key out of his pocket and opening the door. You truly considered this for a second. This was a pilot, you were a flight attendant. However, he somehow seemed so helpless in this moment, so at the mercy of this dumb day. Or were you seeing things? No, his voice asking you to stay in the cockpit was still fresh in your ears, his panic as clear in your mind as he was now. You followed him inside and he set his backpack on the floor as he flipped on the lights, apparently not even having been inside the room until now. You followed suit, setting down your purse as well. 

“Was the interview alright?” You asked, pulling up a chair from the small table in the corner as Chris sat himself on the edge of the bed. 

He nodded nonchalantly, stretching and massaging the bridge of his nose. “Sure. Pretty standard stuff. ‘What happened’, ‘what did you do according to procedure,’ all the fun stuff. I was just worried about the Captain the whole time.”

“I don’t blame you,” you offered with a small smile, “But I wouldn’t worry. Jay’s pretty tough.”

“Of course, but… I dunno,” Chris paused, his eyes downcast as he chewed on his lip in thought. “Everything happened so fast. Alarms are going off, the Captain’s out, and all I could think of was how I didn't feel ready. I wasn’t ready for this to happen.”

“When would you ever be? What surprised you the most?”

“I guess… All the people on board. The pressure of almost 200 people depending on you. This wasn’t even a giant disaster but I was on the brink of not being able to handle it that whole time and I just felt like such a  _ failure _ .”

“But you landed safely,” you sat forward in your chair. You were tempted to place a comforting hand on his knee, but was that too much? “Everyone’s alive. Why would you be a failure?”

“Flying planes was supposed to be it. The thing I'm going to do forever and be happy doing and be great at, but the first real test comes and I almost crumble. What do I do with that?”

“This is it? This is the ‘thing’?” You asked. This time you did rest a hand on his knee, but just for a moment. He regarded it thoughtfully before he nodded. “Then try again,” you continued, “The terrifying thing no one told us growing up was that finding your ‘thing’ isn’t a finish line. It’s not like you find it and that’s it. A lot of times it’s more like goalposts. You have to keep passing them and sometimes there's never a finish line, but you love it and that’s what matters.”

Chris smirked, his shoulders softening. He shrugged his coat and jacket off, laying them next to him on the bed. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m glad,” you grinned, “I'm sort of making it up as I go along. I thought being a flight attendant was it, too, but one day I woke up and I didn't feel at home in the skies anymore. I wouldn't worry too much, by the way. You’re a good pilot.”

“And you're a really good flight attendant,” he smiled. “Was today worse than any businessman trying to pull on your pantyhose?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but it would've been even worse if that happened, too. Besides, nobody flirts with you? That’s discrimination.”

“Of course they do! Last week a very friendly old man in Reno squeezed my arm for way too long when we were deplaning.” 

“What, like this?” You asked, playfully leaning forward and grabbing his bicep. 

“Not quite,” he wheezed out a laugh, “you’re not massaging it and leering at me.”

“This  _ feels _ gross,” you wrinkled your nose as you tried it, “I feel like a perv.”

“Good, you’re really in the mindset then. It’s weird how old people think this is effective.” You both shared a laugh but you couldn't help but notice the restless look in his eye. 

“You’re still out of it?”

He shook his head. “Stupid, yeah?”

“Not stupid. Here,” you offered with a proactive clap, “an actual tip. Grab the pillow and bring it down here.” Chris eyed you curiously as he grabbed the pillow from behind him. Quickly, you got up and turned on the bedside lamp before flipping the ceiling light off. You took the pillow from him and shooed him off the bed for a second as you pulled aside the covers, laying the pillow on the foot of the bed. “I’m going to sound crazy, but just try it. Lay down now.”

“This way?”

You nodded seriously. Chris silently challenged you, only for a second as he rolled up his uniform sleeves before climbing into bed, his feet up where his head would've been. You took it upon yourself to sit beside him and untie the laces of his masterfully shined shoes. He stiffly looked down his nose, regarding his wiggling feet as you set the shoes together on the floor next to his bag. You reached over and pulled the covers over him, lightly tucking him in for full effect. 

“This feels weird.” He observed. 

“Right?”

“Absolutely bizarre.”

“But it feels new, right?”

“It does. But it’s just a bed,” Chris marveled. 

“Of course it’s just a bed, but 99% of the time you sleep in it one way. I sort of use this as a manual reset, like after a week of back-to-back nonstops and I'm in a different time zone and I don’t even feel like a person. Now how do you feel?”

Chris paused, considering it. “Weirdly enough… A little clarified. Almost a little reorganized. I think you’re right about the reset thing.”

“Glad you think so,” you clapped again as you arose, dusting yourself off. “And I'm glad I could help.”

You turned to gather your purse. Would asking for a phone number be too much? After all, what if you wanted to check on him? A tug pulled you out of your consideration -- literally -- Chris finding the first thing he could reach: the hem of your skirt once again. 

“Wait! You're leaving?”

You smiled down at his hand as he sheepishly let go. “Sure. You feel better now, right? We need some sleep. Want one more tip?”

“Please?”

You took the shabby comforter of the bed and tucked him back in, momentarily musing that you were restraining him from keeping you here longer. “Okay,” you smirked quietly at his careful attention, “one last tip: you actually  _ can _ get your own coffee, but I would prefer if your pilot friends would ask before just taking over the galley.”

“No!” Chris let out with a surprised laugh, “That doesn’t count!” 

“Sure it does. You'll learn plenty more on your own. Sweet dreams, First Officer Chan.” You tucked him in just a little more, placing a playfully chaste kiss to his brow as a final touch, a final word and a closed door on the feelings you were telling yourself weren't there as you turned to grab your purse. 

Until yet another tug caught your attention. Only this time, it was a gentle pinch at the fabric of your pantyhose. You turned halfway around, the silence in the room crushing you as you locked eyes. Wordlessly, curiously, obviously, you sat back down on the bed and let Chris sit up to kiss you. You admired how his lips didn't waver on yours, even as they lingered. He meant it. 

“ _ What's that for? _ ” You whispered against him. 

“ _ I didn’t want you to go yet, _ ” he whispered back, “ _ And you're still wearing my hat. _ ” 

You eyed him carefully despite your blushing face, weighing these heavy possibilities, all while tamping down the wild urge to ignore everything and kiss him again. However, maybe this was just a case of accepting everything… And kissing him again. 

So you did. First, you slipped off his cap from atop your head and set it on the bedside. Then, placing a hand on his shoulder, you attempted to match his confidence as you pushed him back onto the bed, following him down as you kissed him, your lips tight against his before you ultimately softened. Thoughts swam in your head as he slid your coat free from your arms, letting it fall off the side of the bed and onto the floor. 

“Is this alright? Chris asked softly against you, his hands already ahead of the curve and wrapping around your waist. He gently hauled you over to lay on his chest. The way he handled you made you feel weightless, only adding to the floating feeling in your stomach. You gave a short nod. Your fingers lightly brushed his fringe from his eyes, trailing down his cheek as if you were still confirming for yourself that this was real, and you were really making this decision that you had never made in this situation before. There had been other pilots, other flight attendants, and even the occasional customer, but nothing had ever passed this barrier before. So you crossed it again with another kiss. 

Chris appeared satisfied with your affirmation as he rolled you both over in bed, his knee almost cautious as it parted your legs. The old mattress creaked beneath you, cradling your shoulders as Chris placed a tentative kiss to the nape of your neck. You reached down, lifting the hem of your skirt a little so his hips could settle between your thighs. On their way back up, your fingertips stopped at his belt, unbuckling him and sliding the leather free from the loops. Chris’ lips on your neck paused as he picked himself up from your chest. He watched intently as you pulled at his shirt, untucking it before he intervened. You waited a moment, catching your breath as he loosened his tie and pulled it away from the pressed collar of his shirt. This joined the belt you had dropped off the side of the bed. Both your hands reached for the top buttons of each other's shirts, making your ways down. You weren't sure if Chris was aware of how cutely and obviously he was staring at the slope of your breasts still concealed by your bra, until you took his hand and laid it on your chest. He got the hint quickly, his warm fingers firmly caressing and gently groping you. He seemed almost easily distracted, finding new things to be fixated on as you intermittently kissed and gasped. This time, it was him watching intently as you lifted your hips to reach behind you, unzipping your skirt and pushing it down. He eagerly took over, pulling your skirt off for you, also dropping it off the side of the bed. He sat back, taking a moment to slide off your low heels. A pang of affection thumped in your chest as he almost absent-mindedly massaged each foot before setting your shoes on the floor beside his. Next came your pantyhose. He leaned forward, softly kissing your bent knee as he nuzzled his way up your legs. Finally, his fingers dipped beneath the taut waistband and he watched, almost transfixed as he pulled the meager layer off of you. The sensation was so exposing that the panties that followed almost felt inconsequential. 

You sat up, wondering and watching as Chris kissed his way back up your legs once again, the light tickle of his lips making you smirk as you slipped off the remaining layers of your blouse and bra. He was almost caught off guard, the pause in his Adam’s apple giving away the deep breath he took at the sight of you before shedding his opened shirt as well. He swiftly shucked off his slacks and socks, barely giving you an equal opportunity to admire him before he leaned down to place a gentle introductory kiss just below your navel. Your breathless nod was all he needed to finally taste you. You gasped at the feel of him moaning against you, his tongue making you shiver as you grasped at the bedsheets. 

Too eager to wait, any amount of time he took savoring you between your legs seemed to fly by before he came up for air, running the back of his hand across his chin as he crawled up between your thighs. His hips rested heavy on yours once more, only this time the clear sensation of his erection against your damp entrance was only made more apparent by the thin layer of his briefs separating you both. He waited again for your approval before making another move, his hand poised at his hip until you nodded. The feel of the head of his rigid length was smooth against you, prodding shallowly into your soaked heat. The simultaneous moan that erupted from both of you was fuel on the fire. Your open legs wrapped around his hips, your fingers curled into his hair as you pulled him in for a hungry kiss. Chris slowly rocked his hips, working his way deeper into you until he bottomed out. His groan against your neck was so satisfied, almost as endearing as he was himself. 

You almost felt impatient as he gently fucked you. You wanted more -- more control, more pleasure, more of him. He was surprised as you pushed at his shoulder, feeling empty as he slid out of you and onto his back beside you. You sat up and brazenly pulled his underwear the rest of the way off, taking charge in straddling his hips. This time, however, it was your turn to wait for him. He gave a small, almost timid nod as he watched you. You humored the thought that maybe this was just as different of an experience for him as it was for you. Chris threw his head back on the pillow at the foot of the bed as you eased the walls of your pussy back down onto him, his hand clutching onto your hip and the other grabbing onto your thigh as you slowly began to ride him. Your hips firmly rocked on top of his, drawing more groans and soft curses made under his breath. It didn’t take long for him to get accustomed to you enough that his hands could wander. Now, one groped at your breast and the other traveled up your thigh to between your legs, allowing himself full access to caressing your clit with the pad of his thumb. His eyes lit up at your response, moaning louder than you meant to as your depths clenched around him. Soon enough, the set in his clenched jaw matched his furrowing brow and it was a sight to be enamored with. The stir between your legs started to build heat up your chest like a chimney, your head getting light the further along he pushed you. Chris’s hips bucked up against yours and bounced you harder onto his length. 

He took it upon himself to nod first this time, breathlessly warning you of how close he was and you shook your head, begging him to hold off as your nails lightly raked down his chest. The way he smirked, biting at his lip as he thrust even harder against you, his thumb rubbing faster circles on your clit -- no one had so playfully pushed you to cum before. And it was working. You could feel your toes curling at the unstoppable force at which you were approaching this orgasm, and the way Chris insistently watched only made it all the more intense as you finally locked up, hitting your peak and nearly going limp in the process. The way it hit you, the sound almost dropped out as if you were submerged underwater. He quickly took over, clutching onto your hips now as he fucked into your dripping pussy. You were practically a useless doll with how easily he handled you on top of him, but at the same time he was still so gently firm with you that it was as if you were precious to him. Maybe you were, with the eyes he made at you, at least for now. He watched your blissful face desperately until the moment he couldn't anymore, wrenching his eyes shut and letting his head fall back into the pillow with the force of his own orgasm. 

As his hands released your hips, you exhaustedly curled into yourself on his lap, leaning your head down to wrap around him. Chris held onto you, his trembling matching yours in the wake of your climaxes. His arms hugged strong around your waist nonetheless, embracing you closely as his length gradually softened inside of your sensitive walls. You stayed like that, listening to each other breathe in the quiet of the dimly lit room. As you rolled over to lay at his side, Chris followed you, nuzzling into your chest. You tipped a fingertip under his chin and he looked up at you, his sleepy eyes wrapped up in you and almost reminding you of a puppy. 

He closed his eyes as you kissed his forehead, your fingers lazily stroking his hair as you kissed his nose, his chin, and finally his lips again. 

“What was that for?” He quietly laughed. 

“Congratulations,” you chuckled, “I've never done this before.”

Chris pouted cutely, his eyes still closed, “You're not regretting this already, are you?”

“Of course not,” you soothed, “I'm just surprised it happened. But I'm not surprised it was you.”

He smiled warmly, even in his half-awake state. “What happens tomorrow?”

“You mean today.”

“Tomorrow is tomorrow until I fall asleep,” he laughed, “so what happens then?”

“I'm going to visit Jay if I can,” you decided thoughtfully, “and I'll buy you breakfast at a greasy diner before I put you on a plane to LaGuardia and never see you again.”

“You'll never see me again?” His pout renewed in spades, only with a touch more sincerity to it this time. 

“Sure,” you kissed him with a smile again, “it's hard to keep you pilots on the ground long enough.”

Chris hummed in thought, his grin returning as he caught you challenging him. “Hmm, no.”

“No?”

“No. I'll see you again,” he decided, “You have more tips to show me. I'll be useless without you.”

“Fine,” you laughed. You grabbed the shabby comforter of the bed, bundling up with him where you still laid the wrong way in bed. “I won't say no to that.”

Chris smiled contentedly as you kissed his forehead once more. Your eyes joined his in closing now, softly falling asleep in each other's arms even as a new day was forming outside. The hectic night you'd had finally hit you, gracefully knocking you out as you considered the way you weren't as nervous about being grounded next month. Maybe you wouldn't truly be leaving the skies if he was still up there. 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to skzctnightnight.tumblr.com! 💕


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